To follow up from two posts a month or so ago on ecoregional druidry and the wheel of the year and celebrating rituals, observances, and activities, I want to continue thinking about how druids can adapt basic practices of druidry to their local ecosystems. This is particularly important for those of us in diverse ecosystems around the world: part of nature spirituality is being with nature as she is in your region. Thus far in this series, we’ve explored a druid’s wheel of the year that is seasonally-focused on a local ecosystem as well as the different ways we might celebrate this wheel of the year with rituals, observances, and activities. Also tied to these spiritual practices are symbolism associated with the elements and directions; framing symbolism that weaves its way into our practices in a variety of different contexts. And so, in this post, we’ll delve into thinking about basic symbolism we use in the druid tradition and how we might adapt that based on an ecoregional approach.

What is symbolism? What does it do for us?

Before I get into why we might adapt symbolism and reasons to do so, I want to talk about what symbolism is in its basic form. Catherine Bell, who did some of the most important scholarly work surrounding ritual in the 20th century, suggested that ritual practices connect people to archtypical or universal acts, attitudes, structures, or functions. Symbols, within ritual, work like “a language for the primary purpose of communication” (61); in other words, symbols convey meaning to people who use them, and that meaning should be tied to the broader context.

The challenge, of course, comes in balancing individual needs and practices with those of the broader community. This is a choice that each of us have to make–by moving further away from the traditional symbolism, it may be harder to align with larger community values. If you are a solo practitioner, this may not be an issue for you. But if you plan on running a grove or attending gatherings, it certainly may be. Finding ways of developing a shared vision of what your ecoregional druidry looks like is in part, a negotiation with any others you might be practicing with.

Traditional Symbolism

Elemental Wheel with Traditional Animal Symbols

The druid revival tradition draws upon symbolism adapted from the sacred animals and trees of the British Isles. These symbols are typically as follows:

North / Great Bear / Earth

East / Hawk of May / Air

South / White Stag / Fire

West / Salmon of Wisdom / Water

In AODA, we add a few more into the mix (for detailed descriptions on these, you can visit this post):

Spirit above / Solar Current

Spirit below / Telluric Current

Spirit within / Lunar Current

You might also choose to expand the four directions to eight, but they don’t typically include animals. Recently, at the OBOD East Coast Gathering, the Mystic River Grove added other animals: moose, skunk, turkey vulture, and turtle.

North East

North West

South East

South West

The traditional associations of the directions are used in all sorts of ritualized ways (both in OBOD and AODA) including in opening rituals and protective workings. Because they are so pervasive and such an important part of the tradition, I personally believe that resonating deeply with these symbols is critical. So let’s take a look at how we might adapt any one of these symbols and what is gained–and lost–from doing so. We’ll also explore adding in new symbolism or alternative symbolism.

Localizing Ritual Symbolism and Ecology

In the druid tradition, adaptation of the basic symbolism to your local ecoregion is not only common, it is encouraged. Part of living with the land is drawing upon the animals, plants, and energies present immediately in that land that speak to you.

Beautiful Rooster can hold the east!

Elements and directions. The elements and their directions are specific to the druid path and other Western Esoteric circles. These associations are widely used by many, and in groups, give people some cohesion and consistency. Generally, I think these associations aren’t worth changing in most circumstances, especially if you are planning on working with others, but there is one instance that comes to mind where you might change them. This comes when you have a powerful elemental force in a different location such as a huge body of water in the east, a mountain in the south, and so on. I have found it is helpful to “feel out” where the strongest force of the element is and use that if you feel that strong pull or are particularly sensitive to it. When I moved to the Great Lakes Region, for example, water was all around me, but I would often accidentally call water in the East because Lake Huron was closest to me and I was connected with the Lady of the Lake. Eventually, I solved the problem by connecting to a lake that was much closer to me (and much smaller) in the west so that I could keep my traditional associations (which I really wanted to do).

Animals.Druids in diverse ecosystems may find that the traditional animals may need to be reconsidered. This is for any number of reasons: perhaps the animals are not found in the ecosystem, perhaps the druid has no connection with the traditional animals, or perhaps the druid doesn’t have a good connection with that animal. Some choose to use the traditional animal symbols from the druid revival as well as their own additions in the cross quarters (or may have several sets of symbols depending on the location). Again, careful observation of nature, combined with looking for animal signs and seeing what speaks to you, is a useful practice.

In my case, even though three of the four animals are present in my ecosystem (hawk, bear, stag), I have substituted the salmon for a rainbow trout, painted turtle, or river otter. The river otter is a particularly powerful symbol for me here in Western PA because otter was lost to our rivers and only in the last two decades has been reintroduced and is making a comeback–and as a kayaker, I see them regularly on my trips. This is a powerful symbol of regeneration that I have experienced firsthand and is something I want to draw upon. When I was in Michigan, I had painted turtles and snapping turtles on my property near the sacred space, so they were what I called in the west.

On my land in Michigan, I did have hawks, but I didn’t want them too close (as the hawk would come eat my chickens regularly). So rather than calling in that energy, I called the energy of the “Rooster crowing up the sun” in the east, the energy directly on my property. I would also sometimes call the Raccoon in the north, since the Bears were so rare in that area as it was more heavily populated. This felt right and powerful; I was honoring the animals that were immediately present in my ecosystem (and trying to keep away predators that would do my flock harm).

Bees

Since I work a lot with AODA’s symbolism that includes the additional three directions, I also gave animals/birds/insects a place in those three directions as well:

Spirit below / the great soil web of life (because it sustains all life and is full of billions of living beings)

Spirit above / the white heron (because it was a dominant bird in my region and often flew overhead)

Spirit within / the bee of inspiration (because I am a beekeeper and love bees!)

Spend time in the land around you and see what animals resonate with your own path.

Localizing Ritual Symbolism and Folk Culture

Another place you might go for symbolism, rituals, activities, and observances is your own family history or regional history. Look to the folk traditions, find the magic inherent in the landscape, and use that as your symbols, words, phrases, things that resonate. Often, small bits of older traditions (folklore, folk songs, even magical traditions) leave echoes upon the landscape and cultural history, tucked away in old bookstores or even within your own family lore. These powerful symbols may find their way to you unexpectedly and be useful as you are thinking about building your own unique path.

For me, a barn-sign tradition was a delightful surprise that offered symbolism that resonates both outward upon my landscape but also in my practice. This is now part of my own druid path, as are some of my grandparents’ Pennsylvania Dutch folk magic traditions, like using the Wooly Bear caterpillar to determine the severity and length of winter. In terms of the Barn Signs, after returning to Western PA, a friend and I were taking a drive through the country when I paid closer attention to the decorations on the barns in Somerset, Bedford, and Cambria counties in PA. Many of these barns were over a century old (one had a date of 1889 on it) and featured certain designs. Out in Eastern PA, they have a different kind of magical barn sign, a more widely known “hex signs” and they are colorful with symmetrical images and pictures painted on a round circle. But in Western PA, the tradition seems to be very different: a (usually) red barn with a white symbol that is cut out and applied to the barn. One of the most amazing had two decorative pentacles surrounded by a pentagram: very clearly a magical sign. I’ve worked some of these, as well as the “country” tradition of using the pentacle everywhere on houses, as one of my primary protective symbols.

Magical Barn sign in Somerset County

Magical Barn sign in Somerset County

Moving Beyond Tradition

You don’t need to stick just with animals or directions for symbolism that you can use to tie to your druid practice. For example, other symbolism tied to the four (or seven) directions might also be useful for you to consider. These might be songs, movements, hand signals, sacred mountains, images, four sacred places, pretty much anything you want that resonates with you.

Fresh elderflower

For example, I have a series of healing plants (for healing work) and sacred trees (for my daily practice) that I call regularly when doing daily rituals or other kinds of rituals. These came through developing relationships with the living earth as well as studying herbalism and using my intuition.I have many versions of healing plant correspondences that I’ve developed over the years. A general one of plants that I like and work with a lot for my own healing looks like this (and I absolutely use the 7 directions cause I want to add in more plants!):

Earth / Plantain (a wonderful all around healing plant)

Air / Stinging Nettle (nervine, tonic)

Fire / Goldenrod (anti-inflammatory, among other things)

Water / Calamus (water-based root, good for throat and other issues)

Above / Elder (immune support, fever)

Below / Sassafras (liver tonic)

Within / Hawthorn (heart tonic)

One of my versions, specific to cold/flu healing, looks like this:

Earth / Reishi mushroom (for immune system support)

Air / New England Aster (specific for lungs and air issues)

Fire / Bee Balm (for infection fighting)

West / Boneset (fever support)

Above / Elderflower (for fever support)

Below / Burdock (for nutrition for the body)

Within / Catnip (for calming)

Sacred Trees or, you could develop a set of symbols based on sacred trees in the Ogham or locally. One might look like this:

Earth / Apple

Air / Beech

Fire / Cedar

Water / Willow

Above / White Pine

Below / Oak

Within / Elder

The possibilities for adapting to your local symbolism are endless–it is a joyful process that will put you more in touch with the living earth. I hope that this post has given you some ideas of how you might further adapt your own druid practices to your ecosystem. I’d love to hear more from you about how you may have done or are thinking about doing of this adaptation work!

In the 1990’s, now Grand Archdruid of the Ancient Order of Druids in America, Gordon Cooper, developed the idea of “wildcrafting your own druidry”; this practice is defined as rooted one’s druid practice in one’s local ecology, history, legends and magic. In today’s age of adapting and drawing upon many different traditions in the quest for spiritual wholeness, we sometimes forget that all knowledge, regardless of how ancient it is (like the Celtic Tree Alphabet and divination system, the Ogham) was originally developed in a local culture and ecosystem. Thus, too, I believe our spiritual practice reflect our own local ecologies and ways of understanding. I’m going to expand on some of Gordon’s ideas here and talk about my own work with “local druidry” or “ecoregional druidry” and how to put some of this into practice to create a “druid’s wheel of the year” that is specific to your local ecology and customs. While I’m using druidry as an example here, anyone who is following a nature-based spiritual path and using the wheel of the year as their structure of holidays would benefit from such information.

Dividing Up the Landscape

The Laurel Highlands (Allegheny Mountain Range in the Appalacians). These are the mountains I call home–my inspiration for my localized wheel of the year.

Before we get into how to adapt some of the druid path practices and material to a local setting, it’s important to understand the different ways in which we can divide a landscape into smaller units that are more uniform. Most of us understand divisions from a political sense: the line that separates two countries, states, or provinces. These divisions may help us understand some of the different cultural practices that we can draw upon that are regionally or locally-based. Local feasts, local foods, local agricultural practices, local traditions and folklore all may contribute to our own understanding of ecoregional druid adaptations (and I’ll talk more about those in a second post).

However, political lines only occasionally follow ecological boundaries, and so we also need to understand something about ecological boundaries. At the largest level are ecozones (like the Nearctic ecozone, which constitutes most of North and Central America) and bioregions (like the Eastern United States). These bioregions are very large areas that have many, many different ecosystems within them, but do share some broader characteristics (such as patterns of light and darkness throughout a year). For our purposes, likely the most appropriate place to look is at the level of ecoregion (or ecological region) which is, according to Brunckhorst (2000) is a “recurring pattern of ecosystems associated with characteristic combinations of soil and landform that characterize a region.” This may include patterns that repeat in the geology, physiography, vegetation, climate, hydrology, flora and fauna, and soils of a land area. In the case of the United States, the Laurentia ecoregion which also includes all of New England, the Mid-Atlantic, the upper Midwest east of the Mississippi as well as parts of South-Eastern Canada. Within this ecoregion, there are many ecosystems which are unique to their specific locations but also broader species that are shared across them.

With knowledge of both your regional or local traditions and ecoregion and local ecosystems, you are well on your way to adapting your druid practice.

The Adapted Wheel of the Year

The holidays that make up the wheel or cycle of the year in the druid tradition follow the path of the sun and include the solstices and equinoxes are determined by the path of the sun. The solstices, equinoxes, and cross quarter days manifest differently upon the earth in quiet dramatic ways. The modern wheel of the year, which is celebrated by druids, was developed in Great Britain from older agricultural holidays from Europe. While it fits the UK ecosystem quite well, it may be far less appropriate Texas, USA or Australia. Particularly, while the astronomical event of the longest day and longest night are present always, how they manifest on the earth is tied to how the holidays are celebrated. For example, in the UK or Eastern US, the Fall Equinox is a ritual devoted to harvest because that’s what’s happening in the landscape. Many different adaptations of the wheel of the year have been created by druids all over the world, unique to their ecosystems.

A radically different ecosystem that would not abide by the UK-based wheel of the year

Further, the four season model present and assumed in the Wheel of the Year is based on a temperate climate. Some druids don’t live in regions with four seasons. Even within a temperate ecosystem each season may vary considerably by weeks or months, with different bloom times. Each year also is variable; a warm and early spring equals a growing season that has flowering and fruiting maturing earlier. And so why the sun and solar currents are steady, dependable, and predictable, the hydrological cycles, weather, and manifestation of the season on the earth herself is ever changing. It seems, then, to create a truly representative body of holidays, we must observe both the progress of the sun across the sky, but also consider the role of the specific season upon the earth and how it manifests where we live.

While the overall themes of the wheel of the year manifest in most ecosystems (a time of light/spring, a time of harvest, a time of being indoors/shelter (which might be from sun or cold, depending on the location), these are not consistent with the traditional wheel of the year in many places. Not all locations have traditional spring, summer, winter, and fall. And so, some druids may find it necessary to develop a modified seasonal cycle and wheel of the year. For example, a wheel of the year in the tropics might include a dry season and a stormy season; this would drastically change the nature of the seasonal celebrations and the overall themes.

Deepening the Wheel of the Year: Adding Ecoregional Sacred Observances

Even if you live in a temperate climate (like I do) that is fairly representative of the standard wheel of the year, one of the ways you might adapt the wheel of the year is by adding in what I call minor sacred observances. These, unlike the path of the sun or cross quarter days, do not have specific dates on a calendar set by the consistent path of the sun and patterns of light and dark. Rather, they mark a period in time in the ecosystem, and that specific occurrence changes from year to year.

Through a period of observation and interaction, which involved being out in every season and through all kinds of weather, certain events seemed particularly meaningful and salient in my ecosystem. These were events that I noticed happened with regularity and also that were notable or strikig to me in some way. I also used some of my own knowledge of past local history and lore. This wheel of the year took me over a decade to fully develop and, just as importantly, changed substantially when I made the move from Michigan to Pennsylvania a few years back. Here it is in its current form:

Dana’s Wheel of the Seasons

Anything that is in between the eight holidays is mostly variable – like the first hard frost or first snowfall. These are particularly significant events that happen each year, and I make note of them and honor them when they occur. I also have noted important dates that connect me to seasonal activities and the land–the yearly creation of Pysanky eggs, a longstanding family tradition. Additionally, all of my gardening and homesteading activities that help root me firmly in the ecosystem like starting my seeds, preparing beds for the fall, harvesting, and so on. You’ll also see that I have included what I consider to be important markers of changes in my local ecosystem, like the chirping of the Kaydids or the blooming of the hawthorn.

You’ll notice on my map, Groundhog Day is included for a simple reason: I live 40 minutes south of Punxsutawney, PA, who has an annual tradition of doing a groundhog weather prognostication (a fancy word for divination) describing how soon winter will end by reading Phil’s shadow. Because of that bit of regional and honored folk magic, I tie my own Imbolc celebrations in with the general regional celebrations for Groundhog day on Feb 2nd and do divinations for the coming year at that time.

Of course, a different druid (even one living in the same ecoregion) might have a very different calendar of events. For example, when I lived in the Great Lakes region of the US, the full freezing over of the ice on the lakes (so that you could walk, skate, or ice fish) was a memorable occurrence, as was when the first crack in that same ice appeared. For some druids near the coast, the monthly “tidal bulge” might be particularly salient or the blooming of the beach rose. This is all to say that your own earth-centered holidays and even more specialized seasons themselves can be developed in line with your observations of local ecosystems and ecology. The more that you know about the world directly around you, the more you will have a sense of what is sacred and meaningful about that world. Perhaps you don’t have a winter, but you have a season of fog—that would change how and when you celebrated that season.

Suggestions for Developing and Extending Your Wheel of the Year

First snow….

I see this kind of ecoregional calendar as a next step in the druid tradition: we have a set of solstices, equinoxes, and cross quarter days that occur with regularity and that help bring us together. And these are determined by the path of the sun. But each druid or group of druids might find their own way forward: the general principle here is that part of the druid tradition ties sacred ecological knowledge with a honoring of the cycles of nature and the cycles of the year. Or, you might choose to keep the solstices and equinoxes and do away with the cross quarter days entirely (as they are agricultural) and instead, build in other holidays or sacred moments that are important to you and your region.

How you develop your own seasonal calendar is up to you—it is about what is salient on your immediate landscape, the landscape you inhabit each day. Here are some suggestions:

Nature observations: You might start by observing nature in your area for a full year and then noting: what is changing? What is different? How important are those changes to you?

Interview the Old Timers and Wise Folks: Talk with the old farmers, wise women, grannies, and grandpaps in the area who have an innate knowledge. Ask them how they know spring has arrived, or that fall is coming. You might be surprised with the level of detail you get!

Look to local farmers and farm products. A lot of traditional agricultural customs and products are directly dependent on the local ecosystems. You’ll see that reflected in my map above—the flowing of the maple sap, for example, as well as the budding of the maple tree are significant to me both because I have done sugaring most years, but also because of the broader cultural custom in this part of the US.

Look to local customs and traditions. You might pay attention to regional or local fairs (like the celebration of the maple tree present in my region) and/or look at regional calendars to see what the important dates are. Some of these may be contemporary customs (like Groundhog Day) or customs that used to take place but no longer do (like Wassailing in January). Reading about the history of your region, particularly, feasts, celebrations, and traditional activities, might give you more insight.

Consider family observances. Some families develop their own traditions, and some of those might be worth considering. For others, family traditions are often religious and may belong to a religion that you no longer want to associate with, and that’s ok too.

Consider where the “energy” is. What is this season about? Where is the energy and power in the land at present? For example, for me around the Spring Equinox here (late March) nothing is blooming. But what is happening are the robins are starting to return and the maples, birches, hickories, and walnuts are running with their sap. And the maples, in particular, are in a place of their highest power of the year (which I understand from talking to them and sensing their energy over a long period of time). Maple, then, features predominantly in my local druid calendar as well as in ritual work that I do at that time.

Speak with the nature spirits. Perhaps the most powerful thing you can do is to connect with the nature sprits, the powerful energies of the landscape where you live, and see what wisdom they have for you (using any number of inner communication or divination methods).

And so, with some observation, intuition, and research, you can develop a highly personalized “wheel of the year” calendar that is eco-regional and very specific to your druid path. I’ll continue to examine this topic next week, when we explore how to develop localized rituals, observances, and activities for your wheel of the year.

(PS: If any of my readers are heading to Four Quarters Interfaith Sanctuary for Stones Rising next weekend, I hope to see you there!)